


invaluable contribution

by scredgirl



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, ive found my lane, more domestic bs, more filling in the blanks of the timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-02-01 05:38:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21400792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scredgirl/pseuds/scredgirl
Summary: Triss isn't too keen on being sent to spy on her friend (if that's even the word she should use). She goes for a meditative walk, but she isn't too keen on that either. It turns out mixing espionage, romance and friendship isn't the winning combination it ought to be.
Relationships: Philippa Eilhart/Triss Merigold
Comments: 3
Kudos: 40





	invaluable contribution

**Author's Note:**

> Set after the megascope conversation between Triss, Yennefer and Philippa in Tower of the Swallow, and before Triss winds up on Skellige looking for Yennefer.
> 
> Everlasting thanks to Cheyenne for her continued support ❤️

Triss turned away from the bookshelf she was perusing, taken aback by the request.

“You’re asking me to track her down. Spy on her.”

“Yes.” Philippa was not one to beat around the bush. In a few sentences, she had turned what Triss hoped would be an idle afternoon in Monte Calvo’s library into Lodge business. “We need to know what Yennefer is up to. She might lead us to Ciri, or at least highlight which leads aren’t worth following.”

Triss turned back to the bookshelf to hide her troubled expression. She bitterly recalled her last conversation with Yennefer, the memory of their fight burning a hole in her abdomen. When Yennefer had asked for her help, she couldn’t bring herself to say yes. Yet, despite the other woman's admonishments, it wasn’t guilt she felt. She knew Yennefer had counted on her, but Triss hadn't let her down - not anymore than Yennefer had by refusing to understand the position she was putting her in.

It was just like her to careen back into her life and ask her to throw away everything she had. All the work she had put in to get to her position, the stress, the compromising, the death - Triss couldn’t let it all be for nothing, all for the sake of a family she would never be a part of, for a friend who would never let her get close again. Hesitation and resentment had filled her lungs and blocked her throat, keeping her static until the decision had been made for her, as Philippa shut down every one of Yennefer’s requests. Being caught between the two sorceresses was Triss’s personal hell, and the way she'd ended up silenced by them both still made her stomach churn in helpless anger.

“Why me?” Triss said, sounding more tense than she had intended. “Couldn’t someone else do it?”

Philippa walked up behind her, arms snaking around her waist before she rested her chin on Triss’s shoulder. She softly spoke next to her ear.

“I’d rather it were you. You’re the only one sharp enough to find her and close enough to gain her trust.”

Triss smiled wanly.

“You overestimate Yenna’s capacity for forgiveness. Now that she’s seen you with me, she’s not likely to trust me again anytime soon.”

“And you underestimate yourself. You’re remarkably good at making yourself non-threatening, Triss.” Triss could hear a smile in Philippa’s words. “Only I know you’re anything but.”

Triss resolved to ignore the way that made her feel. She hadn't gotten quite used to her newfound position of power, and it scared her as much as it exhilarated her.

“It’s not just that.” Triss sighed and turned in Philippa’s embrace to face her. “I can’t do it, Phil.”

Philippa's posture stiffened.

“Can't, or won't?”

“Won't,” Triss admitted. “I don't want to interfere in Yennefer's affairs. She's my friend.”

A dismissive laugh from Philippa.

“Oh, is that what you call it?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

They untangled from each other, standing apart.

“When was the last time you two acted as such?” Philippa's tone was honeyed, but Triss could taste the bitterness underneath. “You betray her, she berates you. Every one of your interactions that I've witnessed has brought you nothing but embarrassment. She calls you to ask for a favour, but offers nothing in return but petty jealousy and blame. Such a friend you have in her.”

Triss felt her throat close up. Despite everything they shared, Philippa could still be so cold when they fought.

“My relationship with Yennefer is not for you to judge.” Triss made her tone angry to hide the hurt that built up in her chest. She walked past Philippa and made for the library door. “Just have someone else from the Lodge do it.”

“You’d dismiss the work we’re doing for her sake. What has she done that warrants such devotion?”

Philippa didn’t hide her spitefulness anymore. It was so rare to hear genuine emotion from her that it made Triss stop in her tracks. She scoffed, tossing her brown waves over her shoulder as she faced Philippa once more. 

“I thought you didn’t get jealous.”

“But I don’t. I’m merely puzzled at such ill-placed loyalty.” Her tone was glazed with forced indifference again. It made Triss angry. “I hoped you’d be past this. Clearly you aren’t.”

“I don’t expect you to understand,” Triss retorted snidely. “The concept of friends is rather foreign to you.”

“If that’s meant to be hurtful, it’s not.” Philippa sighed, as if she regretted having to say the words. “People like us don’t have friends, Triss. Only liabilities.”

“Perhaps I’m not like you, then.”

Triss hated fighting with Philippa. She was sharp, and Triss couldn’t seem to get through to her without cutting herself. She turned on her heels and exited the library, making her hands relax and injecting a feigned confidence in her step, just like Philippa would have done. The other sorceress did not call after her, this time.

* * *

  
  


The hill the palace stood on was largely barren, but Triss still held out hope she would find something worthwhile hiding among the spare bushes and the rare trees. Perhaps a geode, or a fossil if she was lucky. It was as good a way as any to spend the time, and she couldn’t stand being in Philippa’s house at the moment. She had heard laughter coming from the megascope room as she paced the halls, and the fact that Philippa could find it in herself to socialise while Triss was in the throes of self doubt by her fault had twisted her gut.

She was left with her own thoughts, and she did not like it. They circled round and round like crows and left her feeling drained and none the clearer about how she should feel. Perhaps if she were to get used to it, there would be some hidden truth to be drawn out of her solitude, some piece of light she could only find deep within herself. Perhaps that was how Philippa could stand this lonely existence. Triss bent down and picked up a round rock. With a whisper and a bit of magic, it cracked open, revealing itself to be as grey and solid inside as it looked from the outside. _ Of course, _ Triss thought wearily, and tossed the pieces away.

When she teleported back into the great hall, the light was beginning to fade, and Triss’s thin autumnal coat was failing to shield her from the settling evening chill outside. She held it out to the servant who greeted her into the palace, along with the handful of interesting minerals, bones and plants she had found outside.

“Take those to the laboratory, please. Let me know if Lady Eilhart is in there or not.”

None of her finds were remotely valuable, but she would grind them up for alchemical ingredients later.

While Philippa preferred to purchase her materials ready to use, Triss was in the habit of preparing them herself. That was the only way they were up to her standards. _ “Biberveldt supplies perfectly adequate powders. Give them a try instead of wasting time you could be spending on more pleasant things,” _Philippa had told her once, and she did not have to try very hard to make Triss forgo the mortar and pestle that afternoon. Triss felt a pang of longing at the memory, but she brushed it aside in favour of the pride she felt at the idea of taking up the task again despite Philippa’s advice. She was going to do things her own way.

Triss worked on her preparation, crushing agrimony leaves together with alkanet root into a fragrant, muddy red paste. Every blow of the pestle in the marble bowl was channelling her growing stress with the situation she found herself in. Something needled at the back of her mind, something more serious than a lover’s spat or a damaged friendship. For the past few nights, Triss had been having vivid, upsetting dreams that faded into fog come morning. Though she could not recall their contents, the distinct impression that something was going terribly wrong lingered well after she had shaken the sleep from her head. Some of those dreams, violent and nondescript, felt like they were about Yennefer and left her sick to her stomach for a full morning. What if something bad happened to Yennefer while Triss obstinately refused to look for her - might she not as well conciliate her role in the lodge with her worry for her friend, make sure she was safe? _ Better that we find her, rather than whoever’s out there waiting to snatch her and Ciri up. _The thought was taking root in Triss’s mind, nurtured by her anxiety.

The paste had reached the desired consistency. With a palette knife, Triss spread it into a thin layer on a metal sheet. She lit a fire in the oven with one short burst of magic, and carefully placed the tray in there to dry. The resulting clay would be ground into a powder and kept in sealed phials. If Triss got hurt in some way while on the road, she could combine one dose of it with a healing draught for an easily crafted poultice. The treatment was even more effective when mixed with elixirs, but Triss’s allergies meant she had to stick to traditional methods.

The process had exhausted her, and it was well past midnight when she was finally done sifting and packaging the powder. Triss indulged in a drawn-out yawn and made her way back upstairs. It was not uncommon for Philippa to coop herself up in her study and work late into the night, yet, when she was nowhere to be found within the master suite, Triss could not help feeling that she was being avoided. She silently thanked the maid for the bed warmer that kept her from going to sleep in cold sheets.

* * *

  
  


Her breath was short as she tried in vain to hold on to the memory of her dream, but it spilled like steam from a pot and, once again, all she was left holding was a feeling of dread. It was the same dream as the night before, that much she knew. She felt weak, like she always used to before Aretuza took care of her chronic anaemia, and a clinging anxiety gnawed at her limbs and weighed on her spine.

Triss got up to grey light filtering through a crack between the heavy curtains. The mess of dark hair on the pillow beside hers groaned quietly and pulled the covers tighter around her. She had not felt Philippa join her in bed during the night. There were many other bedchambers in the palace, so Triss took her presence to mean that she was not angry enough to go sleep in a lonely bed.

Even so, Triss knew better than to wake her up. She quietly slipped on a robe and padded out of the room. She knew what she needed to do.

* * *

  
  


Lunch was simple, prepared by the kitchen staff. Their cooking was not as elaborate as Philippa’s, but it was comforting. Triss was almost done with her potatoes when she heard characteristically crisp footsteps enter the dining hall.

“Good morning, Triss.”

“It’s past noon.”

Philippa did not answer. Addressing her staff, she asked for breakfast to be delivered to her study posthaste, and shut the door on her way out.

Triss sighed and got up, following after her.

“Philippa! Philippa, wait.”

“Let’s not do this now. I’m rather busy.”

She sounded bored, or perhaps tired. She hadn’t even gotten dressed yet, her robe trailing behind her, slippers slapping on the marquetry floor.

“Busy how? You just woke up. Stop.”

Triss reached forwards and grabbed Philippa’s hand. Her dressing gown whipped about in a flurry of black lace as she turned to face her, and the look in her eyes made Triss regret running after her.

“Let go of my hand.”

“Phil, please listen. I’ve been thinking…”

Philippa snatched her hand away from Triss’s grasp, her chin held high and her gaze steely. Dark hair fell in front of her face. It sent an ambivalent shiver down Triss’s spine.

“Great news. I just want to break fast in peace.”

“You could break fast in the dining room. We could talk afterwards.”

Philippa ran a hand through her sleep-tousled hair.

“Afterwards. Fine.”

* * *

  
  


“I’ve already started making preparations. I could leave within the week.”

Philippa stared at her with her cheek resting on one hand, the other holding her spoon.

“What made you change your mind?”

“I realised it would do no good to cower from her. This could be my chance to… Mend things with Yennefer.”

“Mend things. You mean, in earnest?”

“You were the one who suggested I reconnect with her.”

“To gather information. Not to offer a heartfelt apology.”

“You disapprove.”

“As you said: I don’t understand.” Philippa paused, idly sifting through her porridge with her spoon. “I suppose whichever way you want to frame it, I ought to be satisfied with your decision to go after her. But I can’t wrap my head around what you’re hoping to accomplish. You want to apologise to her? And then what?”

“I’ll still report to you.”

“Then what good is it to reconcile?”

“I don’t know, Phil, alright? I don't like having to do this. But I need to find her, and she'll never talk to me again unless I say I'm sorry. Whatever happens after that… I’ll at least have a shot at salvaging this. As long as she's alive, I'll always have a shot.” 

Philippa looked out towards the window. A few orange leaves still clung to the trees, standing out starkly against the dull sky. They were the last touch of colour to be seen outside. Soon enough, winter would turn the whole landscape grey, white and black.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” Philippa said coldly. “Let me assure you, it never works. You think you can have both her friendship and a role in the Lodge by my side. When it comes to it, which will you choose?”

Triss remained silent. She got up from her seat, walking to the other end of the table where Philippa was. Gently, she tilted the other woman’s head up. Philippa’s lips, soft against hers, were indecisive at first, but soon a hand came to rest on the back of Triss’s neck, pulling her closer.

There was not a sound in the dining hall.


End file.
